


The Situation's This...

by tablelamp



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Deleted Scenes, Developing Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: Scenes from Marvin and Whizzer's relationship.





	1. Charge Ahead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SingARoundelay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingARoundelay/gifts).



Marvin always picked the bars that were dark to drink in. In the dark, no one could see someone at a table in the corner, looking at all the people he couldn't have.

Well. Almost no one.

Some days there were lots of people to pay attention to, but today there was only one. Marvin noticed the minute the younger man walked in. He moved with a self-assured grace--dancer or athlete, Marvin was sure. He almost hoped it was dancer. And his clothes! They hugged every inch of him, leaving nothing to the imagination. Marvin was going to have some excellent dreams tonight. Possibly some wet ones.

The young man ordered his drink, leaning casually against the bar. From where Marvin was sitting, he had an excellent view of the other man's ass. He hoped the other man wouldn't move anytime soon.

He did move, as it turned out, when he got the drink he'd asked for, but the way he did it was poetry. He turned, changing the direction of his slouch, leaning back on his elbows, hips thrust defiantly forward. Oh God. Marvin was getting hard. He was gonna have to go to the restroom in a minute to take care of things...assuming he could stand up.

"Anyone sitting here?"

Distracted, Marvin looked up to see the other man gesturing to the second seat at his table.

"Um," Marvin said. "No, you can..." He gestured helplessly to the other chair. "Please."

"Thanks." The man looked amused as he sat, leaning forward against the table. The top few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and Marvin could see halfway down his chest. Not that he was looking. Okay, yeah, he was looking. "I'm Whizzer."

"What kind of name is Whizzer?" Marvin said, his brain several miles behind his body.

Whizzer raised his eyebrows. "I don't hear many complaints. And you are?"

An idiot. "I'm Marvin."

"What kind of name is Marvin?" Whizzer said pointedly.

Marvin grimaced. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Whizzer leaned in closer to Marvin. "I could feel you staring at me."

Marvin felt a surge of panic. What if Whizzer wasn't gay? What if he were offended by the attention? "Staring? No, I wasn't, I..."

Whizzer smirked. "Relax. I liked it." He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "You're hard for me, Marvin, aren't you? Under there?"

Marvin swallowed involuntarily, his thoughts jumbled. "I don't know what you mean."

"Like hell you don't," Whizzer said. "Where should we go?"

Marvin's brain refused to give him any helpful suggestions, or anything coherent to say to Whizzer. "Go?"

"To take care of your..." Whizzer's gaze strayed lapwards. "...dilemma. I hear the bathroom doors lock. Or if the risk of discovery turns you on, we could do it right here." Whizzer's hand landed on Marvin's thigh and began stroking gently upward.

Marvin meant to say something, he really did, but all that came out of his mouth was a ragged exhalation.

"Ohh," Whizzer purred. "Speechless. I like it. You're not speechless that often, are you, Marvin?"

Marvin shook his head, language utterly beyond him.

"Well," Whizzer said, voice still low and intimate, "I'll just have to guess what you want."

Before Marvin knew what was happening, Whizzer had slipped underneath the table. Marvin felt Whizzer unzip his fly, and then Whizzer's hands, deft and careful, were touching his cock...and then...and then Whizzer's mouth was hot and wet around him...

Marvin utterly lost control, slumping back in his seat, head tipped back, breathing heavily as the waves of pleasure from Whizzer's mouth rolled through him. He was dimly aware that his release was coming, and he covered his mouth with both hands, even in the throes of desire aware that he could not, _could not_ let the people around him know what was happening. And then...God!...he came, the wave of euphoria crashing hard through his body, the thrill echoing all through him even as Whizzer gently tucked him away, rezipped, and returned to his place at the table.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," Whizzer said innocently.

Marvin lifted his head to look at Whizzer, and Whizzer deliberately licked the corner of his mouth as though he were still licking up the last bit of Marvin's cum. Marvin would've gotten hard right then if it had been physically possible.

"Thank you," Marvin said weakly, when he could talk again.

Whizzer cracked up, eyes wrinkling at the corners as he laughed. "Ooh, so polite! You're welcome." He leaned across the table toward Marvin. "Next time I'll make you _scream._ "

Marvin wanted that more than could possibly be good for him. "When?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have a very busy schedule," Whizzer said.

"I'll wait," Marvin said immediately.

Whizzer looked surprised and almost pleased by Marvin's words. "Yeah?"

Marvin nodded. "It's worth it."

Whizzer seemed to make a decision right there. "Okay." He pulled a card out of his pocket and scribbled something on it, then handed it to Marvin. "This weekend. Saturday. My apartment. 9 AM. Come over and we'll rattle the walls."

Marvin could not wait.

***

"Uhhhhhhhh." Marvin fell back against the pillows, sweaty and spent and utterly, utterly satisfied.

Whizzer propped himself up on one elbow next to Marvin, looking amused and not even a little winded. "Told you I'd make you scream."

"Yeah, you did," Marvin said, trying not to pant too loudly. He didn't want Whizzer thinking he was too fragile for this. "What are you doing next Saturday?"

Whizzer laughed. "You're insatiable!"

"I'm serious," Marvin countered.

"I'm busy next Saturday," Whizzer said, "but if you can get away Wednesday night..."

"I'll be there," Marvin said immediately.

Whizzer laughed again, flopping onto his back to relax.

Now that Marvin had found this, he didn't ever want to let it go.


	2. Wife, Son, and Lover

"There's something I need to tell you," Marvin said.

Whizzer groaned, taking one of Marvin's pillows and holding it over his ears. "I don't like conversations that start that way. Pick something else."

"This is serious," Marvin said, gently pulling the pillow away.

Whizzer pouted. "I don't like serious." This was the 'we'll have to stop meeting like this' speech. He knew it.

Marvin cleared his throat. "I have a family."

It shouldn't have surprised Whizzer...goodness knows the man dressed like he didn't care about impressing anyone anymore...but it did. "A family as in...parents?"

"A wife," Marvin said. "And a son."

Whizzer nodded. "I understand." He got out of bed and started to get dressed.

"You understand what?" Marvin asked.

"It's been fun, but it was just sex," Whizzer said dismissively. He prided himself on never letting anyone he'd slept with know if they'd hurt him. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

"That's not why I was telling you," Marvin said. "I want you to meet them."

Whizzer stared at Marvin, wondering if he'd heard right. "You want me to what?"

"Come over for dinner," Marvin said, getting out of bed and picking up his clothes. "Meet my family."

"Your family. Meaning your wife. The person you're cheating on with me." Whizzer paused, but Marvin didn't seem to have any objection to his summary of the situation. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I just..." Marvin shrugged, buttoning his shirt. "I think they'd like you."

"Lots of people like me. That's not the point," Whizzer said. "You realize what you're doing."

"Yes. I want the people I'm closest to to know each other," Marvin said.

Whizzer shook his head. "No. You want to get caught."

Marvin scoffed. "I do not."

"Marvin, people don't invite their..." Whizzer gestured to Marvin, then to himself, then to Marvin again. "...whatever this is to dinner unless they want to be discovered. Because people who come to dinner get questions. 'How do you know each other? Where did you meet?' What am I supposed to say?"

"That you're a friend from work," Marvin said defensively.

Friend from work. Of course. Whizzer's favorite euphemism. He hated this. He hated that Marvin wanted him to meet his wife (why? what could it possibly accomplish?), and he hated that Marvin was always hiding and that he kept getting pushed into hiding with him.

"Wonderful," Whizzer said, knowing that Marvin would hear the false cheer in his tone for what it was. "How many other friends from work will be there? Just so I know what to expect."

Marvin glared at him. "Go to hell."

"Already on the way," Whizzer said blithely. He was amazing at sounding as if he didn't care. It was one of his special skills.

But Marvin didn't leave. He just stood there. Finally, he took a few steps toward Whizzer. "I just...I like you. I want you to know me. And you can't really know me unless you know my family."

Whizzer glanced at Marvin. "I don't like it."

Marvin nodded. "I know."

Whizzer sighed. He'd give in, of course. He always gave in if somebody needed him enough. "When is this dinner, anyway?"

***

Whizzer wasn't sure if it was good or bad that he liked Marvin's wife. Trina seemed like a nice person--a little distracted, maybe, but nice. She'd somehow figured out how to time dinner exactly to when Marvin got home, which Whizzer considered to be its own special skill. And she clearly loved Marvin, which made Whizzer feel horrible.

Not that things all seemed rosy. After dinner, Marvin and Trina got into some kind of whispered debate about who was responsible for clearing the table, putting away dishes, and the rest. Whizzer tactfully excused himself, noticing that Marvin's son Jason had done the same thing about five minutes before the dispute. Apparently he knew his parents' patterns.

Whizzer found Jason in the living room sitting at what looked like a checkerboard. "Hey. Checkers?"

Jason shook his head. "Chess."

Great. So everyone in this apartment thought he was stupid, even the kid. Whizzer sat down opposite Jason. "What's the difference?"

Now Jason looked at Whizzer with real curiosity. "You don't know?"

"Nope. Never played chess," Whizzer said. "Will you show me?"

"Really?" Jason said, brightening at the prospect of teaching someone something.

Whizzer nodded. "Sure." He tapped one of the pieces. "This one. The horse. What does it do?"

"That's the knight," Jason said. "He moves weird. In an L, like this." He demonstrated with the piece. "And he's the only one who can jump over other pieces."

"Cause he's on a horse?" Whizzer guessed.

Jason smiled and nodded. "Well...I guess one piece can jump over another if you're castling, but that's kind of a more advanced move. We'll get there eventually."

Whizzer chuckled. Funny kid...and he sure knew a lot about chess. "Okay. And I'm guessing castling has something to do with this guy?" He tapped the castle-shaped piece on the board.

One by one, Jason went through each piece, explaining what it could do and how it moved. Whizzer listened and nodded and tried to remember as much as he could. He'd never given much thought to chess, but Jason clearly had. Whizzer liked listening to people talk about what interested them most.

"So the goal is to protect your king and put the other person's king in checkmate," Jason concluded. "Checkmate means the king is being attacked by at least one other piece and can't move anywhere he's safe."

Whizzer nodded. "Okay. I think I get it. Could we play?"

Jason brightened. "Really? You want to?"

"Sure," Whizzer said. "As long as you don't mind playing with someone who doesn't know anything."

"That's okay," Jason said. "I'll help you if you get stuck."

Whizzer smiled. "Thanks."

They began playing. When Whizzer tried to make a move that wasn't allowed, Jason would clear his throat gently and then, if asked, offer advice about what move Whizzer should make instead. Chess was actually kinda fun when you played it this way...not that Whizzer had a lot to compare it to.

"Sometimes on Saturday mornings, I walk over to the park," Jason said. "On the corner?"

Whizzer had passed it on his way here. "The one with the wooden benches?"

Jason nodded. "People play chess there on Saturday mornings. You could come sometimes. If you want. I could teach you some more."

Oh, Whizzer liked this kid. "Thanks. I'd like that." He moved one of his pawns. "I guess you must play all the time with your dad."

"Not really," Jason said, sounding disappointed. "He's busy. With work."

 _And with me,_ Whizzer thought. "Well, I don't think I'm doing anything this Saturday. I'll try and stop by the park then."

"Great," Jason said. He moved his queen. "Check."

"Oh, does that mean you win?" Whizzer asked.

"No. If you can get your king out of the way or put another piece in between your king and my queen, you're safe for another move."

"Okay." Whizzer moved his king back a space. "Un-check."

Jason grimaced and moved one of his bishops. "Checkmate."

Whizzer looked at the board to make sure he understood why it was a checkmate. "Okay. Good game."

"What are you two doing?" Marvin asked from the doorway, sounding very amused.

"I'm teaching Whizzer how to play chess," Jason said proudly.

"He just beat me," Whizzer said.

"Don't take it personally. He beats everyone," Trina said from the doorway. "Even Marvin once in a while."

"Only once," Marvin said, his smile turning forced.

"Twice, Dad, remember?" Jason asked.

"Once. Two weeks ago," Marvin said.

"Once two weeks ago, and once last year," Jason said.

Now Marvin was hardly smiling at all when he looked at Whizzer. "I'm outnumbered."

"Well, I'd better go," Whizzer said, taking that as his signal to leave.

"Do you have to?" Jason said, looking disappointed.

"I'm sure he'll come over for dinner again," Marvin said. "We'd like that. Wouldn't we, Trina?"

Trina looked not entirely sure why she'd been asked. "Of course. Bring a friend."

 _I already did._ "Thanks," Whizzer said. "Nice to meet you, Trina. Jason. Marvin, I'll see you later."

"See you at work," Marvin said, putting just a little too much emphasis on the words 'at work.' If anyone but Whizzer noticed, they didn't say anything.

As he left the apartment building, Whizzer told himself he was never having dinner with Marvin's family again.


	3. All So Swell

Marvin had thought Whizzer had enjoyed dinner at his house, but it took a surprising amount of wheedling to convince Whizzer to come back for another dinner.

"I thought you had fun," Marvin said. "It looked like you and Jason were having a good time."

Whizzer's expression softened a little. "We were."

"So come back and have a good time again," Marvin said.

Whizzer sighed, looking at Marvin. "You do get that it's weird, right? Asking me to have dinner with your wife?"

Marvin didn't get that at all. "You're two of the most important people in my life. I want you to like each other."

"I know, but it would be like--" Whizzer cut himself off abruptly.

"Like what?" Marvin asked. "Do you have a wife I don't know about?"

Whizzer gestured to his tiny apartment. "Where? On the fire escape?"

Marvin laughed. "Come on. I promise, if you don't enjoy this one, it'll be the last time I ask."

Whizzer sighed, tilting his head and looking at Marvin with exasperated affection. "You said that last time."

Marvin knew Whizzer would say yes. Marvin always got the last word.

***

Marvin left Trina to do the dishes and found Whizzer in the living room.

"I thought Jason would be here," Whizzer said.

"He's at baseball practice," Marvin said.

Whizzer frowned at Marvin. "He plays baseball?"

"Yes, he does."

"Is he good?"

"Not at all."

Whizzer nodded. "I could give him some pointers. If he wants."

"You play baseball?" Marvin knew Whizzer was athletic, but this was the first physical activity Whizzer had mentioned that was done vertically.

"A little," Whizzer said. "Not as much anymore, but I used to be okay at it."

Marvin regarded Whizzer skeptically. "Why do I feel like you're lying to me?"

"About baseball?" Whizzer asked, raising his eyebrows.

Marvin nodded, moving towards him. "I think you were the star pitcher in high school."

"Do you?" Whizzer asked playfully.

"I hate baseball," Marvin said. "But it would've been fun being on the same team. You could've been the pitcher...I could've been the catcher..." With each suggestion, he was moving closer and closer to Whizzer. "And once in a while, we could've had a conference on the mound..." He was close enough now to loop his arms around Whizzer, hands on Whizzer's ass, pulling Whizzer against him...

"I forgot dessert," Trina said from the doorway.

Marvin jumped away from Whizzer as though he'd singed himself, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

"I made strudel," Trina said, voice trembling. "I'll go get it." She hurried out of the room.

"Shit," Marvin said. She knew. Whizzer had been right, he had been wrong, and she _knew._ He turned to Whizzer. "You should go."

Whizzer had already grabbed his jacket. "Okay." He paused in front of Marvin as though he wanted to kiss him or somehow acknowledge their goodbye...but then he shook his head and was out the door before Marvin could say anything else.

Trina appeared in the doorway again, holding a pan. "What happened?"

"Whizzer had to leave," Marvin said.

"But there's strudel," Trina said. "I told him there was strudel." Her hands were shaking.

"Maybe he doesn't like strudel," Marvin said.

Trina looked at Marvin with an expression of such betrayal that Marvin was half-tempted to run down the hall after Whizzer asking him to come back and have some strudel. "And what about you?"

"Me?"

"Don't you like strudel either?"

Oh. "Not as much as I told you I did."

Trina looked lost. "Then who did I make this for?" Her hands were shaking so badly that the pan slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a noisy clang, splattering strudel along the edge of the rug. "What was any of this for?"

Marvin crossed to her, trying to comfort her. "For you. For Jason."

"I knew there were others. But I thought...if I tried harder..." Trina looked at Marvin, eyes shining with tears. "What did I do wrong?"

Suddenly, faced with the weight and seriousness of Trina's grief, Marvin couldn't keep up the pretense for one more minute. "You're right. I'll go." He turned and headed for his bedroom.

Trina followed. "Go where?"

"Does it matter? I think we both know I can't stay here." He pulled a suitcase out of his closet and began to pack his clothes. 

Trina stood there watching him, looking...wobbly. "You're not leaving?"

Marvin met her eyes. "What else can I do? You know the truth. Do you want me as a husband, knowing?"

"I..." Trina shook her head, looking lost. "I have to decide now?"

Marvin took pity on her. "You don't have to decide at all. I'll take care of everything." He emptied his closet and his chest of drawers, crushing the clothes into the suitcase until they fit. They'd be wrinkled, but Whizzer probably knew how to iron. "I'll come by soon for the rest of my things. Give me a call when you plan to go grocery shopping and I'll do it when you're out."

"This isn't right. Marvin, this is too fast. Just...wait," Trina said.

"I've been waiting my whole life, Trina. How much longer do you want me to wait?" Marvin asked.

Trina faltered. "Are you going to him?"

Marvin nodded. "Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

"I don't know, but I care about you too much to lie to you anymore."

Trina shook her head, looking desperate. "But Marvin--"

"Trina. It's done." He picked up his suitcase. "Tell Jason I'm sorry."

She was crying as he left. Marvin tried not to hear it.

***

Whizzer looked surprised to find Marvin outside when he opened his door. "Hi. What's...?" His gaze fell on the suitcase.

Marvin met Whizzer's eyes. "I've left her."

"For now?" Whizzer asked, clearly not sure what was happening yet.

Marvin shook his head. "For good. I'm going to file for divorce."

Whizzer looked uneasy. "If you said you were sorry, I'm sure she'd..."

"I'm not lying anymore," Marvin interrupted. "Not about who I am and not about who I want."

"Okay," Whizzer said, eyes sympathetic. "Come in. I'll make you some coffee."

"Thanks." Marvin had no idea what would happen next, but if Whizzer was making him coffee, it couldn't be all bad. He set down his suitcase next to Whizzer's coffee table. "Hey, I just realized something."

"What?" Whizzer called from the kitchen.

"This is the first time I'll be spending the night," Marvin said. "Really spending the night."

He could hear the smile in Whizzer's voice. "Sounds like you're ready for a celebration. I'll get my accessories."

Marvin laughed. "I'd settle for coffee." He sank onto Whizzer's couch.

"Coming right up!" Whizzer promised.

Marvin closed his eyes. It was good to be home.


	4. Ran Off with a Friend

"So," Marvin said one morning, "when are we going to get a place?"

Whizzer gestured to his apartment. "I thought this hundred square feet of paradise was our place."

"You know what I mean," Marvin said. "A real place."

Sometimes Marvin said things that were like being hit with a bucket of cold water. "Oh. Well, I'm very sorry my apartment isn't real enough for you."

"What we need is somewhere bigger," Marvin said, wrapping his arms around Whizzer's shoulders. "Somewhere we can spread out."

Whizzer tried to laugh. "I can't afford to spread out any further than this."

"No, but I can," Marvin said.

Whizzer had been dreading The Money Talk. It always happened and it was always weird and awkward and uncomfortable. "It took me forever to find this apartment. I don't know if I could find another one."

"You don't have to do it alone. We'll look together and find somewhere that'll be great for us. Or you don't have to do it at all. I'll take care of everything."

Marvin said that a lot--I'll take care of everything. Sometimes Whizzer got the feeling that it was less of a caretaking gesture and more of a gesture of control. Marvin wanted to take care of everything because he wanted to be in charge of everything. Whizzer was pretty easygoing as a general rule, but there were some things he considered nonnegotiable. Maybe it was lucky Marvin didn't know about all those things just yet.

"Much as I hate to be negative about the future," Whizzer said, "what happens if you and I get this terrific place and then we split up?"

"Obviously you can stay with me until you find your feet," Marvin said generously.

And there it was. Marvin was picking the apartment, so it was automatically Marvin's apartment. If they broke up, Whizzer would be the interloper. In one way, it made sense, since Whizzer couldn't afford a bigger, nicer apartment anyway, even if Marvin had agreed to be the one to move out. Still, the assumption that Whizzer would automatically be the beneficiary of Marvin's largesse stung a little.

"Why do we even need another apartment?" Whizzer asked, making one last desperate play for inertia. "We have this one."

"Which my stuff doesn't fit into," Marvin said. "And I don't want to keep half my life in storage forever."

Whizzer sighed. "You're not giving up on this, are you?"

Marvin shook his head. "Nope."

Whizzer regarded him thoughtfully. "Okay. We can find another place to live."

Marvin whooped in victory, planting a magnanimous kiss on Whizzer's cheek. "You won't be sorry."

"But I'm keeping this place," Whizzer said. "As a backup."

"I really don't think that'll be necessary," Marvin said.

"Marvin. This is not negotiable," Whizzer said. "Either we move in together and I keep this place or I stay here and you move in somewhere by yourself."

"But it's silly for us to live apart," Marvin said, sounding disappointed.

Whizzer waited for Marvin to jump to the inevitable conclusion.

"All right," Marvin said finally, sounding disgruntled. "You can keep this place. But we're not going to live here."

"Oh, thank you so much for letting me keep it," Whizzer said snidely, unable to resist a sarcastic response. "You're so kind and generous."

"You're a prick," Marvin said, irritation in his voice.

"I thought that was why you kept me around," Whizzer retorted.

"For now," Marvin said, turning to leave.

Whizzer was used to "for now." He was good at "for now." And if he was disappointed that he'd ever hoped for or expected anything more from Marvin, he didn't even admit it to himself.


	5. What a Joy's Monogamy

Marvin loved getting home from work and knowing that Whizzer would be there waiting for him. He closed the door behind him and set down his briefcase. "Hey! What's for dinner?"

Whizzer emerged from the kitchen. "Soup."

"Mmm." Marvin rested his hands on Whizzer's hips, pulling him closer. "Just what I like--hot soup on a cold day."

Whizzer pulled away from Marvin. "It's not ready yet."

Marvin frowned. "Not ready?"

"I got a late start." Whizzer looked strangely uncomfortable. What was going on?

"I don't get it," Marvin said. "What could you possibly have to do that's more important?"

Whizzer turned on Marvin, looking furious. "I have a life."

"I didn't say you--"

"And I had one before you. One that didn't involve staying home all day and being bored out of my mind."

Marvin shrugged. "So take up knitting. Watch the soaps. What do housewives do?"

Whizzer had passed angry and gone straight to livid, hands balled in fists at his sides. "I am _not_ your housewife, and I don't need any of this. I have an apartment. I have other men who appreciate me. I don't have to clean your house and do your laundry and make your dinner. I only do it because--"

But the last part of what Whizzer had said had gotten by Marvin. "I'm sorry, back up. You have other men? Since when?"

Whizzer faltered a little. "You never said we'd stop seeing other people."

"Clearly I didn't think I had to," Marvin said. Whizzer was cheating? With another man? Or worse...multiple men?

"Oh, yes, you're right. I'm sorry. It's not as if you started sleeping with me when you had a _wife_ or anything."

"You leave Trina out of this." Marvin hated how Whizzer did that...unerringly found his most vulnerable spot and then hit it with a mallet to distract Marvin from the wrong thing that Whizzer had done.

"Why? You never did! 'I want you to have dinner with us, Whizzer! I want you and Trina to be friends, Whizzer!' Why? Why do you want to shove in my face the person you got to marry? At least I didn't take you to dinner with anyone else _I_ slept with!"

"No. You just waited until I got divorced to tell me you were still seeing other men! I made a commitment to you! I left Trina for you!"

"You left Trina for you," Whizzer retorted. "I was a convenient excuse."

Marvin could feel his own anger curdle and settle in his gut. He held up his own end of agreements. He honored his commitments. If Whizzer thought he was nothing more than a convenient excuse to Marvin, he had no idea who Marvin was at all. "You were a cheap piece of ass who made me feel good."

"Oh yeah? Well, I fucked you because you had money and I was broke!"

"Well, maybe you should spend your other men's money from now on," Marvin said, trying desperately not to seem as if Whizzer had hurt him with any of the things he'd said. He hoped he'd hurt Whizzer back at least a little.

Whizzer looked taken aback. "You don't mean that."

Marvin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "No, I don't."

Whizzer nodded. He didn't look angry now, just deflated. "I'll check on the soup."

Marvin flopped onto the sofa. He and Whizzer had been arguing more and more recently, but this was the worst argument yet. And it hurt more than Marvin wanted to admit that Whizzer was still seeing...still sleeping with...other men. He'd been naive. He'd thought that he and Whizzer...well. Never mind. There was no point making more of this than it was. He and Whizzer lived together and were very sexually compatible. That was it. If that was all Whizzer thought they were, Marvin wouldn't expect anything more.

Maybe he should talk to Mendel about this.


	6. Every Move Is Wrong

Whizzer stared at the suitcase Marvin had just set in front of his feet. He should feel sad, but all he felt was anger...the cold kind that kept you frozen so you could do what you needed to and feel pain later. He looked back at Marvin.

"You want me to go?" he asked, and he could hear the soft, chilly flatness of his own voice.

Marvin shrugged. "Your choice."

Whizzer shook his head. "No. You don't get to say that when you're the one who dumped a suitcase at my feet. That's like jerking me off and saying it was my choice to come."

"You're so crude," Marvin said, making a disgusted face.

Whizzer ignored the barb; Marvin was trying to distract him and it wasn't gonna work this time. "So let me make sure I understand this. You're willing to throw our entire relationship away because I beat you at chess."

"You cheated," Marvin snapped.

Whizzer laughed.

"Stop that!" Marvin looked frustrated. Clearly this wasn't going the way he'd planned.

"I can't. You're just too cute," Whizzer said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "How did I get this far without seeing it?"

Marvin turned away from Whizzer. He was probably pouting. "Seeing what?"

"I can't win," Whizzer said. "Not with you. If I do, you change the rules so I don't."

"I just want you to love me," Marvin said, still sounding grumpy.

"I'm not sure you do," Whizzer said, trying to ignore that this was the first time Marvin had ever said the word 'love' in connection with their relationship. 

"If you just knew how to bend a little bit--"

Whizzer laughed again, though absolutely nothing about this was funny. He felt as though Marvin had jarred him into seeing the truth, the real truth, of their situation, and it couldn't be unseen now that Whizzer had seen it. "Bend? I'm practically doubled over! You want someone to be exactly what you want and nothing you don't, and nobody can do that. Trina tore herself into pieces trying to, and I'm not going to try that hard."

"Thanks," Marvin said, glaring at Whizzer over his shoulder. "I've always enjoyed your lack of enthusiasm."

Whizzer shrugged. Now that he could see what a petulant child Marvin was, Marvin's insults didn't sting as much as they used to. He didn't have to answer them or escalate. "Maybe you want someone to love you without having to love them back. I don't know. But I do know I'm never gonna fit the hole you keep trying to fill. And I'm tired of you always explaining to me why I should be someone else." He picked up the suitcase and headed for the bedroom.

Marvin followed him. "What are you doing?"

Whizzer waggled the suitcase in his hand. "It was your suggestion." He set the suitcase on the bed, opening it and beginning to pack his clothes, folding them carefully so they wouldn't get wrinkled. If he could salvage anything out of this situation, it would probably be his clothes.

"So what?" Marvin asked. "You want me to beg you not to go?"

Whizzer shook his head, moving from bed to closet and back again, steeling himself to keep going. "I don't want anything, Marvin."

Marvin seemed at a loss, so he settled on something petty. "You'll wrinkle your shirts."

"I know how to iron," Whizzer said. He turned to give Marvin an arch look. "Unlike some people."

"Iron and screw," Marvin said. "Impressive resume."

Whizzer gave Marvin the fakest fake smile he could muster. "Thank you!" He closed the suitcase. It wasn't even half full. There was so little of him in this apartment; that probably should've told him something before now. This was Marvin's place. It had always been Marvin's place. 

"You're just...walking away?" Marvin didn't seem as if he understood any of this.

"I am," Whizzer said. "I'm walking away before you do to me what you did to Trina and Jason and anybody who bothers to care about you."

"That's not fair," Marvin said. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked...what? Betrayed? Disbelieving, maybe...like he expected Whizzer to realize the error of his ways and throw himself in a penitent heap at Marvin's feet. Well, Whizzer had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. He'd never been a penitent heap in his life and wasn't about to start now.

Whizzer picked up the suitcase. "None of this is fair." He headed for the door, but turned around. Best to make this a clean break. "And just so you know, if you come to my place, I'm not letting you in. Don't test me."

Marvin didn't say anything else. Whizzer didn't know why he'd expected him to.

Whizzer went an entire block before he let his facade crumble. This _hurt_. It wasn't supposed to hurt. He was supposed to feel glad he'd gotten rid of the anvil around his neck. He was supposed to be excited about having his freedom back. And he definitely wasn't supposed to miss Marvin already.

Fine. He wouldn't miss Marvin. He would go out and get drunk somewhere he and Marvin had never gone together and screw his brains out and forget all about everything. Marvin could be replaced with someone better. Younger. Cuter. Someone with less baggage and more money and fewer clothes so old they should have moss growing on them. Someone who wouldn't make Whizzer feel the way he felt now.

Whizzer straightened, tightened his grip on his suitcase, and headed for his place.


	7. The Most Beautiful Thing

Whizzer moved his bishop. "Check."

Jason moved his king and his rook. "Castling!"

Right. For some reason, Whizzer always forgot about castling. "Noo! Take it back," he joked. 

Jason hesitated, looking uncertain. "Do you want me to?"

Whizzer winced, remembering his last chess game with Marvin. He wasn't going to be like that--not with anybody, but especially not with Jason. "No. Of course not. You should play the best you can, always."

Jason relaxed a little. "Okay."

"Does your dad make you take back good moves?"

Jason shook his head. "He won't play with me at all anymore. When I ask him, he gets this funny look on his face and says no."

So it wasn't just Whizzer who had been hurt by their dissolution. Whizzer was perversely glad to know that Marvin was affected at all; somehow, the worst thing would be if Marvin had gone on with life as usual. 

Whizzer glanced at the nearby park bench, where an elderly man was feeding an expectant crowd of pigeons from a crumpled paper bag. Someday he'd probably be that guy, old, with no friends but pigeons. Whizzer was all too aware that being the hot, pretty boy had an expiration date on it...and who would want him after that date had gone by? Nobody he'd been with lately. And definitely not Marvin, who always used to tease him that his hairline was receding or that he was going bald or something stupid about his hair. Marvin didn't like anything he couldn't ruin a little.

Whizzer turned his mind back to the game, moving his bishop into a position of relative safety while he thought about his next move. "How's your mom?"

Jason shrugged. "She's okay. She cries sometimes. Dr. Mendel says she's adjusting. She really loves him." He picked up one of Whizzer's pawns he had already captured, turning it over in his hand. "I think my dad cries too but not in front of me. His eyes are red all the time."

Whizzer couldn't imagine Marvin letting himself be vulnerable enough to cry. "Huh."

"He says he's sorry a lot. For hurting me and my mom." Jason moved his knight. "Sometimes I don't want to love him but I can't help it."

"Yeah." Whizzer knew what that was like. He wondered how many years of psychiatry Marvin had added to what Jason would need. And who knew how Jason would feel about relationships when he got old enough to have them. Not that Whizzer could say any of this to Jason. 

Jason fidgeted. "Are you mad at me?"

"No!" Whizzer looked at Jason, startled. "Do I seem like I'm mad at you?"

"I don't know. I thought...if you hate my dad, you might not want to be friends with me anymore."

"I can be friends with you without being friends with your dad." Whizzer moved his pawn. "You're two different people. And besides, I don't hate your dad." Not hate. Hate wasn't the right word; it sounded uncomplicated, and Whizzer needed the most complicated word in the world to describe how he felt about Marvin these days. He wasn't sure that word existed yet. "I just can't be friends with your dad anymore, that's all." All. As though it were simple.

Jason captured Whizzer's bishop with his knight almost as an afterthought. "I just don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not. I promise," Whizzer said. "If I were mad at you, would I come play chess with you?"

"Oh yeah." Jason looked relieved. "Probably not."

"You're a good kid," Whizzer said with a smile. His Saturdays would be a lot sadder if he didn't come to the park to play chess with Jason; it was something to hold onto in the middle of the flailing around he was currently doing. He couldn't seem to decide whether his relationship with Marvin had taught him that caring too much was a liability and that he should never do it again, or that he had been caring too much about the wrong person and it would be worth it to care about someone else. So Whizzer vacillated and went out and stayed in and went to work and fooled around, and nothing in his life felt like it was working, but at least he was getting some small pleasure out of it (sometimes very small, depending on who he was with). Chess with Jason was a constant, and Whizzer didn't have many of those in his life anymore.

Whizzer had wondered if Marvin would mind any of this, but Jason continued to show up, so either Marvin didn't mind or didn't know about it. Whizzer wouldn't have been surprised by the latter. Jason seemed like a kid who kept to himself mostly, and Whizzer could respect that. 

Jason smiled. "Thanks."

Whizzer was debating whether he should take Jason's knight with his queen when Jason spoke again. "Whizzer? Do you ever...notice girls at all?"

"I don't," Whizzer said, deciding to risk it and capturing Jason's knight. "But it sounds like maybe you do?"

Jason looked embarrassed. "A little. Just that...you know. They're pretty."

Whizzer had no idea how Jason had decided to trust him with conversations like these, but he was grateful for it anyway. "Sure."

"Some of them still think boys have cooties but some of them don't," Jason said.

Ah, cooties. It had been a long time since Whizzer had thought about those. "I'd stick with the ones who don't."

"Well, yeah," Jason said. "Just...it surprised me cause...I thought...maybe I wouldn't. Because of my dad. You know."

Whizzer nodded. "It would've been okay, Jason. Whoever you noticed."

"Maybe," Jason said. "The other boys at school, though...sometimes they're kind of awful."

"Yeah," Whizzer said dryly, thinking about his own childhood. "I'm familiar."

Jason nodded. "Yeah." He took Whizzer's queen with his bishop, which Whizzer had not been paying attention to.

"This isn't one of my better games, is it?" Whizzer asked.

"You're doing a lot better than when you started," Jason said.

That was true. Jason used to be able to beat him with fool's mate. "Did I tell you the last time I played chess with your dad, I beat him with fool's mate?" If he could mention it casually, maybe it would become just another day in his life.

Jason looked at Whizzer with undisguised wonder. "Really? He must've hated that!"

"Yeah," Whizzer said, still feeling the echoes of that day's pain. "He did."


	8. Time to Grow Up

His life was very quiet now.

That was what surprised Marvin most about Whizzer leaving. Everything got quiet very quickly. No one was telling him to pick up his shirts, teasing him about never making the bed...purring in his ear about all the things they'd do later that night. No one yelled at him when he was a jerk anymore. And he was a jerk...hopefully not as often, but Marvin suspected that he'd always have jerk tendencies. At least he knew enough now to try to work against them.

After Whizzer had gone, Marvin had spent about a week resolutely not missing him. Then he'd found Whizzer's razor in the bathroom and burst into tears.

There wasn't anybody to talk to about what was happening. Trina had never wanted to talk about Whizzer, not really, although she'd tolerated him, probably as much for Jason's sake as for Marvin's. Mendel was with Trina now and thus definitely not able to be objective about Marvin. And Jason...Jason was a kid. Marvin had thrown his only confidants away.

So he looked for a new psychiatrist. It wasn't easy, and there were a few false starts. Marvin learned to lead with his attraction to men so that, if a psychiatrist had a problem with it, Marvin would know sooner rather than later. But eventually, there was Dr. Berger.

Dr. Berger was different from Mendel. Marvin had liked the way Mendel had listened, but in hindsight, he could see how a lot of the things Mendel had said were...not overly helpful. Or professional. Dr. Berger wasn't afraid to challenge Marvin, and Marvin often found himself thinking about things Dr. Berger had said later. He was smart and didn't assume the image Marvin had of himself was accurate, which Marvin found surprisingly helpful.

"I just can't get over Whizzer," Marvin said to Dr. Berger one day. "I keep thinking I should be able to get past this and I can't."

"Why not?" Dr. Berger asked. "What do you miss about him?"

"Other than sex?"

"Sex is important too, but for now, yes. Other than that."

Marvin took a moment to think about it. "The way he laughed. How he made me feel."

"How did he make you feel?"

"Like I was wanted. Attractive." Marvin gestured to himself. "I don't...you learn what you look like pretty young, and you learn what to expect. People don't fall over themselves to spend time with me. Some people make you feel like what you look like; some people make you feel worse. Whizzer made me feel better."

Dr. Berger nodded. "In that list of things you miss, know what I'm not hearing?"

"What?"

"Anything about him cleaning the house or fixing dinner."

Marvin hadn't thought about it that way. "That's funny."

"Why?"

"I used to throw such a fit when he hadn't done those things," Marvin said, remembering times he'd been angry about dinner not being on time or his clothes not being put away as they should've been.

Dr. Berger nodded. "Why do you think that is?"

Marvin paused. "Well...I needed them done."

"You could've done them."

"I worked! He had time."

Dr. Berger nodded. "Your time was your own, and his time was yours too."

"No, that's not..." But Marvin stopped. _His time was yours too._ Marvin had insisted Whizzer stay home...take care of the house...keep things nice for him. Had Whizzer wanted to do those things? Had Marvin ever asked him what he'd wanted to do? Before Whizzer, of course, Trina had done those things...stayed home, kept the house nice. Marvin had just assumed that was what she'd wanted, what she'd expected. But he'd never asked.

"Talk to me," Dr. Berger said. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Marvin sighed. "I'm thinking I screwed up."

"In what way?"

"Trina was..." Marvin had to fight a lump in his throat when he thought about it from this new perspective. "Trina took care of me in a certain way. I never thought about whether she wanted to. I thought, well, that's what women do."

"And you needed to be the man," Dr. Berger said.

Marvin felt one more puzzle piece click into place in his mind, and he didn't like the picture it was forming. "Yes."

Dr. Berger sat back, looking thoughtful. "What does 'being the man' mean to you?"

"I don't know. You work. You make money to take care of your family. You make it so they don't have to worry about anything."

"Do you think you did that?"

Marvin shook his head. "Trina said she knew...even before she caught me with Whizzer, she knew there were others. And she was trying harder, trying to keep me."

"This was the night you left?"

"Yes." Marvin couldn't stand it. "Who does that? How could I hear my wife say she'd been trying to keep me from leaving and think the answer was to leave as soon as possible?"

"I don't know. How?" Dr. Berger asked. He never offered easy answers.

Marvin tried to remember what he'd been thinking. "I knew she was hurting. I think I thought if I left it would be easier."

"For her?"

Marvin shook his head. "For me. But then I did the same thing."

"What thing?"

"I tried to get Whizzer to do all the things Trina did. I was still trying to be a man."

"Didn't you think you were one?"

"No." Marvin didn't even have to think about that answer. "A man doesn't leave his wife and son to be with another man."

"A man did. You did. And whether you feel like one or not, you are a man. You were then too."

Marvin was looking at his time with Whizzer in a whole new way. He'd figured out that he'd made bad choices and hurt Jason. He'd known all along that he'd hurt Trina. But somehow he'd never allowed himself to realize that he'd hurt Whizzer too. "And I kept trying to prove it to him. All the time. That I was the one in charge."

Dr. Berger nodded. "How did that go?"

Marvin gave Dr. Berger a skeptical look. "If it had gone well, I wouldn't be here."

Dr. Berger nodded. "You're angry. Okay. Be angry. But while you're being angry, look at those feelings and see who and what they're for."

Marvin surprised himself by laughing a little. "They're for me. Haven't you noticed everything's about me?"

Dr. Berger smiled. "I have, but the important thing is that now you have too."

Marvin sighed. "I've made a complete mess of everything."

"You'd be surprised how often messes can be cleaned up."

Marvin nodded. "But you have to work at it?"

Dr. Berger smiled more broadly. "That's what I like to hear." He flipped his notepad closed. "And with that, my friend, our time is up. Are you coming back next week or in two weeks?"

"Next week if you have the time," Marvin said.

"I do."

Sometimes Marvin wished he could tell Whizzer about Dr. Berger. Whizzer might like him, and probably Dr. Berger would like Whizzer. Everybody liked Whizzer. Even Marvin liked Whizzer, and he wasn't ever going to see him again. That was the worst part--the regret of having set on fire the one romantic relationship in his life that had even had a remote chance of being functional.

He wished he could tell Whizzer that. He wished he could have it to do over again. He would do better. He would be better. Because, as it turned out, Marvin didn't want just any man. He only wanted Whizzer.

And Whizzer would never come back to him.


	9. One Two Three Four

Marvin was a nervous wreck after the baseball game. He'd seen Whizzer. They'd talked without hurting each other, and Whizzer had left the door open for Marvin getting in touch with him again. Just a little, but...a little was a little more than what had been there before, which was a brick wall. He wanted to call Whizzer the minute he got home, but knew that would be too much.

All he had to do was figure out how to show Whizzer that he had changed...that he wasn't the same Marvin who'd thrown a temper tantrum over a chess game. That he would let Whizzer be who he was and not try to force him into a role that didn't fit him.

That was a lot for a first phone call. He was probably setting himself up for failure; he wouldn't be able to do all those things at once. So the goal, then, was to make sure that it wasn't just once...to leave the door open for more.

This was going to be hard. But, as Whizzer used to point out, Marvin liked things hard.

***

Maybe he shouldn't have said Marvin could call. Whizzer knew he sometimes acted impulsively, and despite the pep talk he'd given himself before going to the baseball game about not letting Marvin get under his skin...Marvin had kinda gotten under his skin. It was difficult for Whizzer not to be an optimist; he vacillated between thinking that letting Marvin in a little bit could be a good thing and thinking that letting Marvin in was the worst mistake he'd made in a lifetime of mistakes.

Of course, when Marvin didn't call right away, Whizzer assumed Marvin had changed his mind. He did that sometimes. Whizzer wouldn't take it personally. Marvin had probably spared them quite a bit of grief. He decided to put it out of his mind.

That lasted until the moment when Whizzer's phone rang on a Sunday afternoon and Whizzer practically lunged for the phone, answering it after the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Whizzer. It's Marvin." Marvin sounded oddly shy. Whizzer found it comforting to think that Marvin might be as nervous about this as Whizzer was.

"Oh, hey, Marvin." Whizzer was trying desperately to sound casual and had no idea whether or not it was working. "What's new?"

"Not much. I was wondering...would you be interested in getting together sometime?"

"Sure." Whizzer was so casual he was sweating. "What did you have in mind?"

"Do you still play racquetball?"

"Uh...yeah. All the time." Surely, _surely_ the first thing Marvin was suggesting wasn't a competition. Surely he couldn't be that oblivious.

"Great. Do you want to meet some night this week to play?"

"Sure, but..." Whizzer struggled with himself for a minute. "I'm just gonna say it...I'm good at racquetball."

"Yeah, I know."

Well, if Marvin knew what he was getting into, okay. Whizzer shrugged. "Okay. Meet you at the courts on Wednesday?"

"Sounds good. Six-thirty okay?"

"Sure, yeah. See you there."

"I'm looking forward to it." Marvin's voice sounded warm and welcoming and utterly sincere. When he talked like that, it always made Whizzer feel soft and wobbly inside. Like Jell-O.

"Me too," Whizzer said. Maybe he should get off the phone before things got more dangerous than they already were. "Bye, Marvin."

"Bye."

Whizzer hung up. All the things he and Marvin could do, and Marvin wanted to play racquetball. _Racquetball._ It wasn't even like going from the frying pan into the fire; it was like going from outside the kitchen entirely into the fire.

Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe Marvin losing at racquetball and having a hissy fit would be just what Whizzer needed to remember why they hadn't worked as a couple, could never work as a couple. It might remind Whizzer that he didn't miss Marvin at all.

Honestly, Whizzer needed a reminder like that, because if the baseball game and this phone call were anything to go by, he wanted Marvin as badly as ever.

***

Marvin had forgotten how good Whizzer looked in his racquetball clothes...and also the fact that when he walked, he led with his hips all the time. It was beautiful. Aesthetically, Marvin's day was made already.

After Whizzer won the first game, he looked nervous. "So...that's..."

"It's your game. I know," Marvin said. "Nice job."

Whizzer stood there staring at Marvin. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Marvin?"

"It's me," Marvin said, smiling a little.

"You do get that you lost and I won?" Whizzer said, tilting his head to one side.

"Yeah. I've been working on that," Marvin said.

"Losing at racquetball?"

"Losing in general," Marvin said.

Whizzer looked like he still didn't believe it. "That's surprisingly self-aware of you."

Marvin laughed. "Thank you. I try."

Whizzer won the second game too, though he kept glancing at Marvin to see what his reaction was to the game. Once Marvin would have been apoplectic about being shown up at something, but now it seemed so small, especially in comparison to being with Whizzer again.

After Whizzer won the third game and the match, he crossed to Marvin. "Okay, this is boring. You can fight a little bit."

"Fight about...?"

"Fight for the game! If you don't care about it, winning isn't any fun." Whizzer met Marvin's eyes. "I don't want you to get upset when I win, but I want you to try."

Marvin nodded. "Okay."

"One more match," Whizzer said. "And this time, try."

"The sad thing is, I was trying the first time," Marvin said.

Whizzer looked at Marvin for a minute, and then a big, beautiful smile crept across his face. "You were, weren't you?"

Marvin laughed. "Yeah, I was."

Whizzer moved closer, resting his hands on Marvin's hips. "You're hopeless. But I could teach you."

"I'd like to learn," Marvin said quietly. "I think I'm ready now."

Whizzer searched Marvin's face, and Marvin took the opportunity to look at Whizzer. He'd gone two years without seeing him, and had forgotten the little details of his face...the exact shape of his nose, the slight laugh lines around his mouth, the warm brown of his eyes. He loved it all. 

"Me too," Whizzer said quietly. "I think I'm ready too." And he leaned forward, letting their foreheads touch. It was a tender gesture, one that almost left Marvin breathless.

Marvin lifted a hand to touch Whizzer's cheek, a little embarrassed to notice how shaky his fingers were. "I've missed you so much."

"Show me," Whizzer whispered, closing his eyes.

Marvin dropped his hand to Whizzer's shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. They still fit together perfectly.


	10. Anything's Possible

Whizzer stopped in the doorway, suitcase in hand. "Wow."

He could see from the set of Marvin's shoulders that Marvin was wincing even before Marvin turned to face him. "What?"

Whizzer gestured to the inside of the apartment. "Nothing's changed since the last time I was here."

"That's not true," Marvin protested. "That shelf..."

"...was right where it is now," Whizzer interrupted.

Marvin was quiet for a moment; then he nodded. "Was right where it is now. There might be a few new books on it though." A smile tugged at his mouth.

Whizzer found himself smiling too. "Let me guess. You're preserving it for the historical record."

Marvin shrugged one shoulder, gaze shifting away from Whizzer. "It's stupid."

Once upon a time, Whizzer might've used that as an invitation to start a fight. Not now. "Tell me."

"I thought if I changed it too much from when we...when you were..." Marvin shrugged again. "It would be admitting you weren't coming back."

Marvin of two years ago would never have told Whizzer something like this...something so personal. It made Whizzer feel...well...it made Whizzer not know what he felt. "You kept it the same so I'd come back?"

Marvin shook his head. "I didn't think you would, but...if it wasn't different, I could still imagine you here."

Whizzer smiled, taking a few steps into the apartment and setting down his suitcase. "I'm here now."

Marvin looked like he couldn't believe it either. "Yes, you are."

Whizzer approached Marvin with slow, playful steps. "So what should we do? Or who?"

Marvin was clearly interested, but he took a step backward. "We can, but we don't have to."

Whizzer raised his eyebrows, tipping his head to one side and waiting for an explanation.

"I'm trying to be different," Marvin said, tapping his fingers uncomfortably on his thigh. "I'm trying to be better."

Better? Than sex? "So...you don't want...?"

"Oh, no, God, I do," Marvin said. "But you might not. Or..." He floundered for a minute. "I'm trying to leave more space for you."

This was a different Marvin...a Marvin who talked about things with him. Kinda. Whizzer wasn't exactly sure yet what to do with this, so he settled on what he knew best.

"Leave less space," Whizzer said, closing the gap between them.

That made Marvin smile. "You think?"

Whizzer leaned in so that his lips were nearly touching Marvin's. "I know."

It was only words that had ever gotten between them. Their bodies had never had any problem communicating.


	11. Devotion to Style

"I have something for you."

Marvin looked up from his coffee. "You do?"

Whizzer nodded, hands behind his back, clearly hiding whatever the something was. "Don't take it the wrong way."

"Okay." That wasn't a reassuring statement. Still, one of the things Marvin had been working on was not to jump immediately to the conclusion that he was being insulted...so he couldn't fault Whizzer for thinking he might do exactly that.

"It's supposed to be nice," Whizzer said defensively.

Marvin nodded. "I'm sure I'll like it."

"Here." Whizzer almost shoved the box onto the table in front of Marvin, making his half-full coffee cup slosh but not overflow.

Marvin opened the box to find a blue tailored dress shirt. "Should I try it on?"

Whizzer looked excited for the first time. "Do you want to?"

Marvin nodded, drawing the shirt out of the box and checking it for pins. "I'll wear it to work if it fits me."

"It'll fit you," Whizzer said immediately. When Marvin gave Whizzer a quizzical look, Whizzer made a face. "I know your size."

Marvin set aside the dress shirt he'd been wearing and put on the new one. It fit perfectly. He glanced at Whizzer. "It's perfect."

"It's blue," Whizzer said. He hesitated, then added quickly, "To match your eyes."

Once Marvin might've taken a gift like this from Whizzer as a threat, a challenge to his choice of wardrobe, a battle for dominance. But it didn't feel like that today. He didn't feel like that. Whizzer loved fashion, and Whizzer loved...him. So he'd combined the two. It was such a shy, careful overture...one that apparently Whizzer had been nervous to make.

"Is this a hint?" Marvin joked gently.

Whizzer seemed to relax, smiling in answer. "It's the eighties, Marvin. No one wears avocado anymore."

Marvin nodded. He'd never have noticed, but if Whizzer had, it was probably true. "I'll have to rely on you to know things like that."

"We could...if you want...I could go with you. Help you pick out some things. Clothes."

Marvin definitely didn't love shopping. But he loved Whizzer. "That might be fun."

"Fun?" Whizzer looked shocked enough to keel over.

"It might not be too bad," Marvin said hastily. No point setting the bar too high.

"You said fun," Whizzer said, pointing at him. "You can't take it back."

Marvin laughed. "It might be fun. I don't know. I've never gone shopping with you."

"You won't be sorry," Whizzer said, drawing close to Marvin. "I'll make you look so good..."

Marvin rested his hands on Whizzer's chest. "You'll wrinkle me."

Whizzer nodded. "You're right." He picked up Marvin's old shirt. "Here. Put this on so I can wrinkle you before work."

Marvin didn't think it was his imagination that, this time with Whizzer, he laughed more.


	12. Make the Dinner

When Whizzer got home, the apartment smelled suspiciously like food. Whizzer paused just inside the doorway. "Did you get takeout?"

"Come see," Marvin called from the kitchen.

Well, put like that, Whizzer would absolutely have to see, wouldn't he? So he put down his things and went into the kitchen, where Marvin was standing proudly by the table...and...

Whizzer stared at the giant pot roast sitting in a pan in the middle of the table. "You made dinner."

"I made dinner," Marvin confirmed.

Whizzer's gaze moved from the dinner--which looked surprisingly edible for a first try--to Marvin. "For me?"

"For us," Marvin said. Then he shook his head, looking shy. "For you."

Every time Whizzer thought he'd adjusted to the new, improved Marvin, Marvin did something else that was different. When they'd been together the first time, dinner had been a battle zone. This time, Marvin had asked--do you mind making dinner when you're home before I am? And apparently they were going to take turns sometimes.

"How did you learn to do this?" Whizzer asked, gesturing to the pot roast.

"I had to ask Cordelia," Marvin said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "There's a lot that I don't know."

"It looks really good. It _smells_ really good." Whizzer looked at Marvin. "Thank you."

Marvin shook his head, looking guilty. "I should've been thanking you all that time. You were doing this every day and I acted like I was the one doing you a favor."

"Yeah," Whizzer agreed. "That kinda pissed me off."

Marvin nodded, still looking troubled. "I get it now."

That was novel too. But Whizzer didn't really want to spend too much time in the past. Sometimes he felt like if they talked about it too much they'd go back there...have the same problems and the same arguments. And he definitely didn't want that. So a change of subject it was. "We need to get you an apron."

Marvin frowned at him. "What?"

"One that says Kiss the Chef."

Marvin chuckled. "I didn't think you needed an invitation."

Whizzer shook his head. "I don't."

He didn't. And the pot roast was delicious, if a little cold, by the time they got to it.


	13. What a Joy's Monogamy (Reprise)

Sometimes Marvin had bad dreams. With Trina, it hadn't mattered, because she slept so soundly that even if he woke up crying, he'd never awakened her. Unfortunately, Whizzer was a light sleeper.

"Marvin?" Marvin felt Whizzer's hand rest on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Marvin said, trying not to sound as if he were crying.

He felt Whizzer move closer. "Are you lying?"

Marvin allowed himself a smile of defeat. "Yes."

"So tell me."

"Something bad happened to Jason. In my dream." Saying it aloud made Marvin feel stupid. He still hadn't rolled over to face Whizzer because he didn't want Whizzer to see him cry. 

"Oh," Whizzer said, sounding sympathetic. "Would you feel better if we went to see Jason tomorrow?"

"Of course, but I'm not sure Trina would be okay with that," Marvin said.

"We don't have to see Trina. Jason plays chess every Saturday morning in the park. We can meet him there."

Marvin chuckled. "How do you know more about Jason than I do?"

"Not more. Just...different things." Whizzer's chin rested on Marvin's shoulder. "What can I do?"

Marvin loved that Whizzer wanted to help. "Could you...I need..." Marvin paused, trying not to trip over what he wanted to say. "Hold me?"

Whizzer's arms twined around Marvin, holding him tightly. "Till winter if I have to."

"Mm," Marvin said, closing his eyes. "That sounds good."

"Mm-hmm," Whizzer agreed. "Gives you something nicer to think about."

Marvin smiled. "Thank you."

There was a long silence, so long that Marvin thought Whizzer might've fallen asleep. But he hadn't. "Marvin? Can I tell you something?"

"Uh-oh," Marvin said.

"No, it's a good thing, I promise."

Marvin nodded, resting his arms atop Whizzer's. "Okay."

"I wanted you to know...I haven't been fooling around for a while."

Marvin's breath caught. "A while?"

"Since I moved back in. I thought you might already know, and then I thought you might not, but I knew you'd never ask, so I'm telling you."

It meant more to Marvin than he would ever know how to put into words. But of course he couldn't say that. "So what I'm hearing is, I'm so good that only I can satisfy you."

Whizzer laughed in surprise. "You conceited prick."

"That's me." Marvin tapped on Whizzer's arms to get him to loosen them a little, finally rolling over to face him. "Seriously. Thank you."

Even in the dark, he could see Whizzer smile. "Well...this feels permanent this time."

Marvin nodded. "I think so."

"And you won't really mind if my hair goes away, will you?" Whizzer sounded insecure, and Marvin winced at the thought that he'd had something to do with that insecurity.

"Never," Marvin promised. "Go completely bald if you want to."

"You like bald men?" Whizzer teased gently.

Marvin pulled Whizzer close. "I like you." He kissed Whizzer.

"I like you too," Whizzer whispered.

They kept close, chests touching, legs intertwined. Once Marvin might've been impatient for something more, but now he knew the value of this moment...the beauty of more quiet ways of caring. He might never have learned that without Whizzer.

Marvin rested his head against his lover's shoulder, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.


End file.
